Heather Lin: Silver Flash!: "Tie a Yellow Ribbon...Pt. 2"

I'm back this week with the second part of "Tie a Yellow Ribbon..." This week's prompt was "Don't look at me like that." And, since I have the attention span of a three-year-old, this will probably be the last time we see Anthony and Rhonda for a while.

But I promise they go out with a bang. ;)

Anthony glanced around the apartment. There was secondhand furniture and a few knick knacks he remembered from the apartment Rhonda had lived in before his arrest. All of Anthony's things were still in storage. But the apartment was clean and homey--everything they'd wanted it to be.

He sat at the tiny table in the tiny kitchen with a cup of coffee in front of him, made just the way he liked it. Rhonda's back was to him as she made grilled cheese in a frying pan. Her shoulders were slumped. Guilt poured down in torrents. This had been hard for her. Of course it had. All he wanted was to provide a life for them, and he'd put their entire future in jeopardy trying to do it.

Anthony wanted to stand. He wanted to wrap his arms around Rhonda's slender waist and reassure her, feel close to her again. She hadn't put on the necklace. The leather string hung out of her pocket.

But he was frozen where he sat. He wasn't sure how she'd react.

Rhonda seemed unaware of his inner turmoil. She slid the sandwich onto a plate and set it in front of him. She hadn't made anything for herself. And Anthony couldn't eat. He had questions. Rhonda was too quiet, too calm as she leaned back against the counter, watching him.

"Have you...," he began.

A small smile settled on Rhonda's lips, as if she knew what he was going to ask.

"Have you been with anyone else?"

Rhonda looked him dead in the eye. Her voice was serious.

"Yeah, Anthony. I've been fuckin' guys all over the place. You were gone. I had needs. And I was angry."

Anthony felt his stomach drop. His nostrils flared. His careful tiptoeing was forgotten. He half-stood, ready to do...he didn't know what. Then she smiled.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm...disappointed, Anthony. We've lost a year. But I'm yours. Just yours."

He calmed down immediately and sat back in his chair. Rhonda turned away again and began piling dishes into the sink to soak. She was so distant. And that made him feel worse than anything she could have done or said. But he was going to fix this.

"Come here, Rho."

She turned, considering him as she dried her hands on a dish towel. Then she did as he asked, standing in front of him, walls still securely in place. But Anthony was going to break them. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her down onto his lap. Rhonda stiffened, but when his lips met hers, she seemed to melt.

She was straddling him, her breasts pushed against his chest, his hard erection nestled securely in the jean-clad vee of her legs as they kissed. Anthony grabbed her ass, clutched the back of her tank top. He hadn't felt a woman in a long time. He moved his mouth to her neck, breathing in the scent of her skin as he carressed it. She had one hand in his hair and the other holding his shirt. Anthony's grip moved to her hips, rocking her back and forth, begging for more friction. Rhonda complied, moaning in his ear as the movement provided her with pleasure of her own.

He couldn't take it anymore. He had to have her.

Anthony let the forgotten dinner fall to the floor and lifted Rhonda onto the table. Her breath and body were shaking, anticipating the passion that was about to be unleashed.

"I missed you so much," Anthony breathed in her ear.

She answered with her hands, unbuttoning his pants and shoving them down his legs. He freed his hard length from his underwear, and she explored the organ with soft hands as he fumbled with the clasp of her jeans. Rhonda lifted her hips, letting him pull down her jeans and underwear and drop them to the floor. He pushed her flat on her back and plunged a finger into her moist depths, rubbing her clit erratically with his thumb, making her squirm, taking only enough time to make sure that she was ready for him. Then he lined himself up with her dripping entrance and plunged into her awaiting depths.

She was tight and wet around him, an ocean of beautiful, sinful sensation, and the way her body rose up to meet his told him that she was lost in the same sea. She'd been quiet that afternoon, cautious, but, just as he'd hoped, she was opening up to him.

Rhonda moaned and writhed against him, her large breasts clothed but tantalizing. Anthony slipped a hand under her tanktop, almost blinded by pure, carnal pleasure but still needing to feel the warm, fleshy mounds. He wouldn't last long, but the way she wrapped her legs around him and the rapid, shallow sound of her breathing told him he wouldn't need to.

"I love you," he groaned.

"You'd fucking better," she answered between gasps.

Then that slightly surprised look came into her eyes, and he knew he could let himself go.

"Anthony...," she moaned.

His hands gripped her waist, and he felt the familiar hot, liquid rush just as her muscles clamped down around him. When the spasms ended, they were both left panting, sweaty, but, more importantly, bonded. Anthony pulled out of Rhonda, and she sat up at the edge of the table, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tightly before he could make a move to clean up or replace his clothes. She didn't seem to care, and he wasn't about to stop her.

"I missed you," Rhonda admitted finally.

"I know, Rho."

He kissed the top of her head. After a moment, they parted, and he pulled up his pants and handed Rhonda's jeans to her. Before she put them on, she straightened her tank top and pulled the necklace he'd made out of her pocket. She placed it carefully around her neck.

And that was all the reassurance Anthony needed.

Be sure to check out this week's other flashers!